


Change of Heart

by AugustinianSeptember



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 05:29:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2801282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AugustinianSeptember/pseuds/AugustinianSeptember
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'His entire world was the heartbeat that echoed in his ears, his trembling hands clasped in his lap, and Dan.</p><p>Silent Dan, weighing up his words.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change of Heart

**Author's Note:**

> First posted fic, please don't kill me!! D: Comments/feedback are nice.

He was shaking. He was shaking so damn much and he couldn’t stop and he was almost positive it was visible. Phil averted his eyes and stared hard at the carpet.

It was the adrenaline, it had to have been. He had felt so confident when he’d told him: "I fell for you as soon as I met you, and I don’t know if it’s just me, but I feel like there’s something between us. Either way, I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re a wonderful person in lots of ways. More than that; I love you, Dan Howell."

Only now Phil’s heart was pounding to the point of chest pain that took his sparse breath away. Nothing seemed to be functioning. Time was dragging. 

His entire world was the heartbeat that echoed in his ears, his trembling hands clasped in his lap, and Dan.

Silent Dan, weighing up his words.

He hadn’t regretted it.

For about five seconds, that is.

"Phil..." 

He had lived with him, with that voice, long enough to know what the tone meant. That was Dan’s  
‘I’m-trying-so-terribly-hard-not-to-hurt-you’ voice.

"I’m so sorry. I’m really flattered, but I-I don’t feel the same way. I love you, but as my best friend. And..."

That ‘and’ meant it wouldn’t work. The fans; the shipping; they’d have to work so hard to hide it. Already they’d had to tone down the way they acted around each other to anything purely platonic.

Phil flinched involuntarily at the response. ’I have nothing to lose’, he’d told himself. That wasn’t entirely true. 

He didn’t have anything to lose. But he did have something to break. Instinctively his right hand rose to clutch at the folds of his t-shirt that lay over his heart.

"Of course. Yeah," It didn’t even feel like him saying the words. Everything felt glitchy and surreal, like a faulty connection. "Yeah. I get it. That’s fine."

For the last few years he had been kidding himself. Letting himself believe that the platonic, affectionate touches were lingering and romantic. Believing there was something more between him and Dan simply to soothe the insatiable heart ache.

This was exactly why Phil didn’t make a habit of admitting his feelings like this. Less chance of being broken. He’d been through rejections before, of course.

None of them had felt quite like this.

An arm rested on his shoulders. He hadn’t even realised he was crying until a tear dropped onto his jeans, leaving a dark sphere where it melted into the fabric.

"I really am sorry, Phil." Dan sounded uncertain and scared. It wasn’t his fault, not really. If it was anyone’s then it was Phil’s for ever having believed that them and we was a possibility.  
"We’re still friends, right?" Phil exhaled slowly, nodding.

"Yes. We’re still friends," He got up, and Dan’s arm dropped uselessly back to his side. "I just...I need a minute."

With his fringe thrown forward over his eyes Phil left the room swiftly. Then he hesitated. If he shut himself in his room then Dan would just come and find him. Instead he slipped on a pair of shoes, pulled on his warmest coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck.

"Phil?" There was nervous shifting from behind him. Phil paused, fingers encircling the cool door handle, but didn’t turn around.

"Please don’t follow me."

With that he was gone, leaving Dan staring after him. Phil knew it was unfair on him, even cruel, but he just couldn’t look Dan in the eyes.

It was chilly outside. Phil kept his head bowed as he walked blindly, more tears threatening to spill onto his cheeks. Before he knew it he was navigating crowds. He took a sharp turn to the left and descended steps into the glaringly lit tube station.

There was only one place he could think of to go, the same place he always found himself when he was depressed or stressed or just plain overworked. He found it comforting, when he was overwrought, to be in close proximity to some body of water. Lean against the railings and watch the tide move in and out.

It was three stops, one change, two more stops to the South Bank. 

People jostled Phil as he walked, borne gently on the swelling tide of people. The Christmas market was on, wooden huts illuminated by twinkling lights. 

He and Dan had come to the market every year since they had moved to London.

The very thought of Dan made him feel sick and his pulse race uncomfortably.

After some searching Phil managed to locate a vacant bench between two trees. He sat and closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling steadily. The noise of the throng was comforting, a white noise that drowned out the hammering rush of blood in his ears. A familiar scent hit him and he breathed it in deeply. It was home and safety and security all in one. 

Oh, God.

He had picked up Dan’s scarf.

One tear escaped, shivering in the cold night air, followed by another. And another. And another. Phil’s slim shoulders shook as he cried into the soft fabric.

What he wouldn’t give to eradicate all memory of this evening.

He lost track of how long he had been there. Each time one surge of tears ceased the next started merely moments later, until he felt as though he would never cry again.

"Hi."

Phil’s eyes blinked open at the voice. He turned slightly to find Dan sat next to him, clutching a paper cup in each hand.

"How did you know I was here?" There was a hoarse, nasally quality to Phil’s voice that made it horribly obvious he had been crying.

"I know this is your favourite place." Dan hesitated when Phil broke eye contact, then held out a cup. "You look cold. I got hot chocolate." Phil accepted it with a mumbled ’thank you’. 

The cup was warm against his freezing hands. He hadn’t noticed how cold he was.

They sipped at their hot chocolate in silence; it was deep and rich. Like Dan’s eyes. Phil could have screamed at the thought.

Dan sighed and glanced down into his cup.

"Phil, I really am sorry-"

"Stop."

"What?"

"Stop saying you’re sorry, Dan, please. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I shouldn’t-I shouldn’t have assumed..." Phil trailed off, fighting sobs for what felt like the millionth time that night.

"It’s not your fault. Phil, look at me." Dan caught Phil’s chin with his free hand and forced him to look into his eyes. "You are an amazing person. And one day you’re going to find someone just as amazing." Swallowing hard, Phil nodded.

"Thanks, Dan."

"It’s true. Now don’t ever run out on me like that again. You scared me, you turnip."

"I’ll try not to."

Except Dan’s words couldn’t change what Phil already knew. He had found his amazing person, and he was sitting right beside him, drinking hot chocolate and pointing out lights across the Thames.

Only he didn’t feel the same way.

-

On Christmas eve two years later, Dan kissed him next to the tree and told him he’d been an idiot. Phil didn’t question the change of heart, but he did whole heartedly agree.


End file.
